


Count the hours, little flower

by dorkery



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, F/M, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkery/pseuds/dorkery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Letting a blossoming young woman who had just discovered her sexuality into his bed was not the smartest thing Prussia could have done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count the hours, little flower

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for the Hetalia Kink Meme. Original request: "[ **Prussia/teen!fem!Germany: Germany has her first wet dream. In Prussia's bed.**](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/21125.html?thread=83821189#t83821189)" 
> 
> FTR, this was in my mind:
> 
> _Count the hours, little flower  
>  'Fore I fuck you with all my power_
> 
> I am very classy.

There was a timid knock. 

Prussia looked up from the letters in his hand as the door creaked open and an abashed face peeked in. He grinned at Germany as she let herself in, primly closing the door behind her and limping slightly towards Prussia. In the glow of candlelight, he could make out the faint tracks of sweat and tears on her face. He touched her hair, felt how damp it was under his skin, tracing his thumb along her brow soothingly. 

“Something wrong, kiddo?”

“My legs hurt,” she said quietly, upset.

Prussia gently took her in his arms and helped hoist her up onto his lap. He shifted them to the middle of the bed so that she could splay her legs out against the mattress. Germany nestled against him, leaning her head on his collarbone as he pinched the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up high over her thighs. Sweat had been trickling down along her legs and he wiped them away, pressing the fingers of both hands into the soft flesh under her knee, kneading carefully. He massaged down to her ankles and back up to her thighs. 

He remembered, once, how they’d been wonderfully chubby when she had been an infant. She shot up shortly after and was tall for a child her age, legs becoming skinny with all the running helter-skelter the village children put her up to. As he ran his hands along her legs, he felt the first hints of feminine softness among the sinewy tangle of her limbs. She felt supple and tender. He pointedly moved his hands away from her inner thighs, where they had been creeping to along with his train of thought. _Keep it in your pants, handsome._

“Better?”

She nodded against him, sighing in relief.

Prussia smiled down at her and pressed a kiss to her temple, hands still moving along her legs.

“They’re growing pains, sweetheart. I know they really hurt, but it’s a good thing.”

“Because I’m growing up?”

“That’s right.”

It had been a while since he last had her in his arms like this. Austria had whisked her away for quite some time and had nagged culture into her ear or whatever bullshit he assumed Prussia was lacking in. For all his many considerable faults, Prussia had to begrudgingly admit that Austria did dote on Germany in that anal-retentive way of his. Prussia could only shudder to think how Germany would end up if it weren’t for Prussia’s positive influence on her personality. He knew Austria was jealous that Germany picked Prussia over him, the way the world generally worked. Being an annoying bitch only got you so far, he supposed.

 _The point_ was that it had been a really long while since Germany had last been with Prussia. In fact, he was pretty sure the last time they had been together, she was about waist-height and was eagerly listening to him tell gruesome and bloody war stories as bed time fodder, because the House of Prussia suffered no pussies and Germany would be a bad ass if it killed him. Now, here she was, practically a teenager and a heavy, welcome weight on his lap that he could no longer toss in the air (as easily) as he once had and who probably wouldn’t appreciate having the daylights tickled out of her. He could feel pert breasts blooming through her nightgown as she pressed against him, and he was somewhat (but not too) guilty for thinking about it. It was inevitable, he supposed, that Germany would get a rack. He hoped it would be a very nice one.

Once Germany was totally relaxed and no longer in pain, he patted her on the knee and pulled her nightgown down. It only fell midway past her calf – growing pains, indeed. He remembered how godawful puberty had been, all that hair and the inconvenient erections. She was taking it like a man – well, no, not like a man; Prussia was the manliest of men and he remembered the indignity of having his voice jump up by an octave in the middle of trash talking Austria. Well. Germany was taking it well. He was proud of her, happy that she was growing at such a rapid pace. It had taken him about 300 years to be able to reach the top shelf. Clearly, he was the ultimate specimen of fine parenting or raising or brothering or whatever it was. 

“Run along now,” he said, “Good girls get a full night’s sleep.”

Germany hesitated, eyes shifting between the door and the hem of Prussia’s shirt that she had been fiddling with. 

“Something else wrong?”

Germany reddened. “Can I… sleep with you tonight?”

Prussia blinked. Then, he chuckled. _She’s a good girl, not a big girl._

He lifted the covers and arched a brow at her. With a smile, she scrambled into bed. He set his things neatly on his bedside table and blew out the candle, fluffing the pillows and pulling her closer. She cuddled against him immediately and he put his arm around her, fingers gently brushing her bangs away from her forehead. Her hair was getting longer now, past her chin and curling at the ends. He thought she was starting to grow very beautifully into a woman. He would let her hair grow out, let the maidservants go to town on her with braids and ribbons and flowers. Maybe even get her a dress.

Prussia eyed what was visible of her chest through her nightgown. Maybe the dress could wait until those grew out. 

“Mm, it’s been a while,” Prussia sighed, eyes closing as he nosed at her temple. “Soon you’re going to get too mature to sleep with me.”

Germany giggled. “I’m not growing up that fast.”

“Oh, then I suppose you want a bed time story?”

“Fast enough to skip those,” she tacked on hurriedly. Prussia snorted.

They fell quiet and Prussia was just about drowsing when Germany spoke in a soft voice.

“… Why do grown ups have to sleep by themselves?”

“Privacy,” he replied, half-asleep. He felt her stiffen in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, “Should I go?”

She was so damned precocious, that’s why she always seemed older than she actually was. Prussia tightened his grip around her and nuzzled her.

“You’re always welcome in my bed,” he said, suddenly feeling a flare of embarrassment. He gave himself a mental kick, glad that she was a kid and that that had likely just flown over her head. Small mercies.

She relaxed, and even with his eyes closed, he could feel her smile. Germany nestled in his arms and they were both out like a light.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prussia blinked awake sleepily. Squinting through the darkness, he blankly noted that dawn was breaking. He’d slept in, and no wonder with how nice and warm and cuddly his sleep had been. He closed his eyes and sank back down to snooze until someone spoiled his morning for him and dragged him bodily to the stables. His hand was tucked in the crook of Germany’s waist and he smiled indulgently as his thumb swiped along the soft dip and curve of her hip. He was going to miss having her run to his bed whenever someone told her about unhappy murdered Kaisers haunting the hallways. He did love cuddling blonde-haired, blue-eyed upstarts with a passion for cute little drawings of horses and guns.

And. Hm. Well. That was different.

Prussia blinked awake rapidly when he realised that his hand was moving. More appropriately, the waist upon which his hand had been resting on was moving. Propelling. Gyrating. 

He stared. He stared very hard.

Germany’s brows were knitted together in concentration, her front teeth slightly visible as she gently bit down on her lower lip. Her lashes were fluttering and… Oh. Apparently her hand was on Prussia’s abs. His shirt pooled at her wrist, fingers lightly skating on his skin and he felt a pleasant shiver go through him at the contact. She had very pretty eyelashes, come to think of it. Now that he had the opportunity and inclination to properly look, he noticed that she had a pretty sprinkling of light freckles across her nose. And pretty little cheeks, rosy with exertion. And a lovely straight nose. And a sweet little moaning mouth and she was rutting against his knee wasn’t she.

He checked, just to make sure.

Yes. Yes, she was.

Okay. This was getting awkward.

 _His erection_ was getting especially more awkward, considering his position. He stayed in place, weighing out his options and hesitating. He didn’t want to wake her up lest she notice his erection and come to the appropriate conclusion that her venerated lord brother was a degenerate. Considering his association with Spain and France, that conclusion would actually _bear merit_ , and god forbid anything ever be easy and non-awkward for him. Waking her up was completely out of the question. Therefore, it boiled down to two possibilities: Sneak away or think unsexy thoughts until Königsberg decided to calm the fuck down. Right. Should be easy enough.

Prussia quickly assessed the situation. Germany’s legs were tangled with his and she was sleeping on his left arm, which, as it so happened, was also starting to go numb on him. He chewed on his lower lip, slowly trying to roll her off to the other side of the bed, but she stirred and that froze him in place. He waited for her to settle back down and a further three minutes before he tried again, inching back gingerly. Her hand slipped from his front and onto the bed. He cheered mentally, pulling his leg away, but a brief look of irritation crossed her face and she snaked her arm around his body and pressed herself against him in a firm embrace. Germany buried her face in the crook of his neck and he felt a flush creep to his ears at the sensation of her breathing rolling across his skin, a hot patch cooling in the brisk morning air and warming hotter with each little puff. 

Okay. This was not working. Plan B.

Uh. Old… men. Old gross men. With mutton chops. Wearing lederhosen. No, wearing a _dirndl_. Germany would look good in a dirndl…

No! Wrong direction! Okay, lederhosen, stick to lederhosen.

Germany would probably look good in lederhosen too…

Prussia let out a sigh of exasperation. He wanted to bang his head against the wall but Germany was hugging him tighter and _when_ did the girl manage to hook both her legs around him? She was rolling her hips against his thigh now and her voice hitched. He frowned at her, propping himself up on an elbow that served only to make her brow knit together once again but then she let out the dirtiest moan he’d ever heard.

Prussia’s hair stood on end.

Königsberg was most definitely not calming the fuck down.

In a moment born of both brilliance and panic, running on pure instinct and without a single thread of thought in his defunct mental faculties, Prussia threw himself off his side of the bed, landing on the floor with a pained yelp. Limbs having been somewhat entangled with Germany’s, Germany was partially dragged though she mercifully remained on the mattress. She awoke with a jolt all the same.

“Prussia? Are you all right?”

“Fine. Just, uh… Well, it was time to wake up anyway.”

“Is it?” Germany bit her lip and glanced past her shoulder to the window. “Oh…”

Prussia stood up stiffly, back to Germany. “I’m gonna go. You, uh… Get ready or whatever it is you. Yeah.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! Uh, I just really need to piss so I’m going to go now. Right. Bye!”

It was an honourable, if undignified, retreat.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prussia felt bad. Really, he did.

As his eyes alternated between the little girl at the door with a pillow in her hands and his blanket-covered dick, he wracked his brain desperately for the right words to say. Let her sleep with him _again_ and risk another bout of inconvenient morning wood which would potentially ruin their loving relationship forever and ever? Or turn her away to sleep on her own considering the fact that she’s frightened and lonely and then have her hating him forever and ever? Spoilt for choice, he was. So he’d spent the entire day hunting and generally being as far away from her as possible. It wasn’t his fault. A man’s body would react the way it would react. He didn’t want to have a hard on over a pre-pubescent girl. Prussia would staunchly stick by this line of reasoning. Unfortunately, he also remembered that he’d extended an indefinite invitation for her to _sleep in his bed_ because Prussia was basically an idiot.

He was going to turn her away. Delicately. Her thinking him cold was infinitely better than her thinking him depraved.

“Hop in.”

Prussia wanted to throw himself out of the window even as he lifted the covers up and let Germany scramble up beside him, settling her in and rolling onto his side, arm on the bed and a hand propping up his head, other hand patting a gentle rhythm on her hip. She watched him quietly.

“While I did say you were welcome any time,” Prussia said wryly, “Growing nations need to learn to sleep on their own.”

Germany blushed slightly, fingers curling into the blankets. “We didn’t get to talk today.”

Well, obviously. “You know how busy I can get. We’ve just ended a war.”

“I know,” she said. “But we haven’t been able to spend a lot of time together.”

“Well _you’re_ the one who doesn’t want a bed time story.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not _little_.”

Prussia arched a brow at her. “Explaining your presence in my bed, clearly.”

Germany blushed, refusing to meet his eyes. She mumbled something about Austria (he should have known as much) and Prussia sighed, laying his head down on the pillow, moving the hand that had been patting her hip to run his fingers through her hair. She tucked herself against him, still watching him in that quiet way of hers. Prussia closed his eyes, breathing slowly, willing her to fall asleep. She didn’t.

“All right,” he finally said with a heavy, defeated sigh, “You wanted to talk. Well, talk.”

He felt her smile as she lifted her head up. “I read a play today.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. It was _Faust_ by Goethe. The actual play, not the weird story you’ve been telling me.”

Prussia scoffed, “You’ve been staying with Austria, what on earth do you know about literary merit?”

“There was nothing in the play about Mephistopheles crying tears of blood! Or slicing through the sky with an icy sword!”

“That _you_ know of. Goethe is pretty and lyrical and all that but _Faust_ is hardly original.”

“You just don’t like it when someone’s better than you,” Germany huffed.

Prussia’s hand stilled in stroking her hair and he opened his eyes only to narrow them at her. She met the glare with a charming, dimpled grin. She’d gotten bratty. Well, well, well.

“Would you like to sleep in the hallway tonight?”

“You wouldn’t.” 

“ _Oh?_ Are you telling me what to do?”

The light dawned in her eyes and she was immediately bracing herself, “Oh, please don’t, you know that’s not what I—”

“Is our little upstart Confederation _bossing_ the Kingdom of Prussia around?”

“No, no, I promise I’m not—”

Her words were drowned by a squeal of laughter as Prussia flipped her onto her back and began to tickle her with a _vengeance_. She flailed wildly, smacking him in the shoulder (which actually _hurt_ , son of a bitch when did she get so strong?) so he immediately pinned both her arms down and shimmied down to blow a raspberry on her bellybutton. She let out another squeal. Her cries for help were interspersed with breathless laughter as Prussia nuzzled her neck with his stubbled face, making gnawing noises. Her struggles eventually died out into half-hearted attempts as her body shook weakly with laughter. When he was done terrorising her, he pulled back with a wide grin.

It faltered. 

And of course, it would, considering. Prussia was on top of Germany, pinning her down by her _arms_ , was he stupid? Her kicking had caused her nightgown to ride higher and reveal creamy white thighs, collar askew, exposing a smooth shoulder and a sweet line of soft throat and collarbone. Her cheeks were red from exertion, lips wet and shining and parted as she panted for breath, eyes gleaming from tears shed of mirth. His eyes lingered, briefly, on the pert breasts that were visible through the fine silk. Prussia immediately flushed, taking his hands away and moving back to his side of the bed, unable to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly, an echo of laughter in her voice. “I promise not to boss you around anymore.”

“That, mouseling, is a lie,” Prussia swallowed the lump in his throat. _You have breasts now._ “Go to sleep.”

Germany giggled softly and pulled the blankets up over both of them. She pressed a soft little kiss to his cheek and whispered good night before nestling in beside him, asleep in moments.

Prussia was basically an idiot.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Hungary gave him a look that was a cross between intrigued and unimpressed.

“Seriously?”

“Which part of this conversation has not been adequate enough in illustrating the seriousness of the topic in question? My tone? My request? My eyebrows?”

“I don’t understand,” she interrupted, “Why you don’t just let me handle Germany.”

“Because,” Prussia said testily, “You would either be too straightforward, which would make her feel awkward about me, or too obtuse, which would make her feel awkward _and_ confused about me.”

“I get the feeling you’re deliberately omitting parts from this story.”

“And what, pray tell, would clue you in to that? Is it the lack of description? The excess? My eyebrows?”

“Why would she feel confused about you? Did something happen?”

“No,” Prussia said too quickly, “Nothing of the sort. When you’re too vague, you open things up to interpretation and we know how quickly her mind races to natural conclusions.”

“Oh?” Hungary looked suspicious. “Natural conclusions?”

“I didn’t say that. Did I say that?”

“What natural conclusions could she draw from vague explanations about maturity?”

“All sorts of ridiculous things,” he insisted. “Do you remember that thing where people who masturbate grow hairy palms and die of consumption?”

“Yes, but…”

“You don’t see France or England any hairier than usual, do you? Or consumption coming on?”

“They’re _nations_.”

“Well— Fine, okay, got me there. But I know plenty of people who indulge in self-love and are completely fine!”

“Is that personal experience talking?”

“Madam,” Prussia sniffed imperiously, “I’ll have you know that I was a Teutonic Knight.”

Hungary rolled her eyes. “I would have never guessed.”

“Whatever, _look_ , we’re getting off-topic.”

“Are you seriously considering talking to her about becoming a woman? Don’t you think she’ll feel even worse about it? What if you tell it to her wrong?”

“I’m sorry, did you just completely miss the point of this conversation? Did something distract you? Our personal history? Your penis envy? My eyebrows?”

“Your eyebrows, yes,” her smile had a hint of smugness to it. “They’re twitching like they do whenever you’re nervous.”

“This is a nerve-wracking subject,” Prussia protested. “I am personally responsible for her well-being.”

“All right,” Hungary finally conceded. “This is for a noble cause, dare I admit it.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes. “When a girl hits puberty, she begins to shed her first blood for about a week every moon—”

“No, no, I totally know that part, geez woman, I thought you were smart. There’s nothing terrifying about talking about a damned period.”

Hungary narrowed her eyes. 

Prussia paused for a little too long before blurting out, “I meant sex.”

“As in… don’t have any if you don’t want to get pregnant?”

“No, as in… Little girl, you are feeling strange unknowable things because your body wants a cock in it.”

“Classy,” Hungary said drily. “You seem to have it well in hand, I don’t see why you need me.”

“And,” Prussia spoke over her, eyes darting nervously this way and that, “Little girl, you may be… unconsciously behaving in slightly inappropriate ways. Particularly when asleep. And alone. In a castle full of men.”

Her eyes widened. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Prussia echoed in relief. “Oh.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prussia had considered going about this delicately but, really, this was too much even for him.

“Did someone feed you liverwurst laced with elfenblumen, what the fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

Prussia was staring at the folds and ripples of the canopy hanging over his bed because Germany – his little Germany – had her hand up her nightgown and her face tucked in the crook of his neck. Outside, dawn was slowly breaking, the sky lightening in a blaze of colours as morning birds began to twitter like the assholes they were. Inside, Prussia was stoically mourning the state of his raging hard on as he defiantly kept his hands to his sides and clenched the bed sheets mercilessly. He felt exhausted from the mental anti-sex marathon he had been keeping up for the past eight hours. He was, as they say, on the brink, at the precipice, on the edge, at the breaking point, _this fucking close_ to saying ‘to hell with it’ and doing… something. He wasn’t exactly sure _what_ (mind lethargically in the gutter at this point) but he knew it would be something he would regret. When he caught himself seriously entertaining the pros and cons of masturbating there and then, he gave himself a mental slap and staunchly recited the Lord’s Prayer, the words to the aria from Cleofide, and chapter three of Fritz’s military chronicle.

Beside him, there was a breathy sigh that sounded suspiciously like, “Mmm, my _lord_.”

“I swear to god, North German Confederation, if you’re doing this to screw with me, you’re going to wish you’d never been born,” Prussia threatened, frustrated and angry and pretty sure he was about to burst into a wave of manful tears. He hated puberty so goddamned much. He wasn’t sure he’d masturbated as furiously as Germany seemed to be the first time his balls had dropped. (All right, he might have.) Then again, maybe it was different for girls. He was clueless. He really needed a good wank.

Focus, focus, focus.

 _Can you actually dream about masturbating if you’d never masturbated before?_ Prussia wondered because, what the hell, at least it wasn’t thoughts of his cock in Germany’s sweet little COULD YOU ACTUALLY DREAM OF MASTURBATION WITHOUT HAVING EXPERIENCED IT? Prussia frowned. What about flying dreams? He was certain plenty of people had flying dreams without ever having experienced flight before. His brows furrowed. No, he’d once free-fallen off a cliff; it probably counted as a flying sensation. Hungary briefly came to mind. He shuddered.

Prussia was distantly aware that Germany was panting into his ear now.

 _My lord_ , she’d said (moaned/gasped/ugh). Prussia narrowed his eyes. She had better be fantasizing about the almighty Prussia or heads would roll. 

_My lord,_ she’d said.

My lord.

Prussia glared at the ceiling, tightening his grip on the bed sheets again to prevent himself from unconsciously wanking. Okay, so _her lord_ aside, whoever it was, Prussia discovered that he’d unwittingly tripped headlong into an unforeseeable turn-on. My lord. Lord Prussia. My lord Prussia. Damn, but that sounded _great_ , and he never usually cared about titles. He chewed industriously on his bottom lip and glanced to the side. Germany had stopped pressing into him and was merely lying against him now. Small mercies.

 _Dear god. Dear god take your hand off me little girl, that is too close to a danger area_ , Prussia shrieked internally as he tried to nudge her away from where she had loosely wrapped her arm around his waist. This was unfair. Unconstitutional. _Unjust_.

Prussia deserved a goddamned award for staunchly holding out until the morning.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prussia woke up one morning after a long, tiresome day at the hunt. He found a small lump in bed beside him, but did not recall receiving any night guests whatsoever. With a tired sigh, he dug the heel of his palm into his eyes and rolled onto his side to go back sleep.

  
  


* * *

  
  


_Tonight_ , Prussia had promised himself. _Tonight I am going find a fantastic woman with big, soft tits and I am going to fuck her until she forgets her own name._

He was popular amongst the townsfolk, with his cocky grin and easy-going smile (his enormous cock and chiselled good looks went without saying). After a few steins of beer, surprise, surprise, he had two or three women with their hands on his shoulders, chest, (ass, oh that one, he wanted _that one_ ) and it was nothing to whisper dirty promises in _that one’s_ ear. They’d kissed and giggled all the way to his private quarters. The guards glared at him jealously and he had cackled as quietly as he could. Her hands were already pulling apart his shirt and the fastenings of his breeches as he fumbled with the door—

Prussia stared at the softly snoring girl in his bed.

He swore he had locked the door.

He _swore_.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Prussia knew what he was going to expect even before he had pushed the door open. It was unlocked. Which meant someone had unlocked it for someone else.

 _Come on_ , that night’s woman whose lips were kissing a trail down his jaw had pleaded, but he’d already completely lost interest by then. He told her that Dieter who was guarding the gate would love to fuck her. She slapped his face, but he barely realised. 

Prussia closed the door behind him and sullenly kicked off his boots. It was still a little early, and as he sat on the bed, Germany stirred. She let out a yawn and rubbed her eyes, hair a little mussed from sleep. Prussia automatically reached out to smooth her locks. She blinked up at him with a smile. It faded when he didn’t return it.

“Have you been having nightmares?” He asked with a strong tone of disapproval.

Germany straightened her back instinctively, growing timid.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you unwell?”

“I am not.”

“Have you been feeling lonely?”

She was caught off-guard. “… Um, not really.”

“Not really, but just a little bit,” Prussia sighed, slouching. He dug his palms into his eyes. “Do you feel that I have been abandoning you?”

“I… What makes you say that?” She asked, stricken.

“You sneak in here, every night, as though you’re afraid I will turn you out.”

Germany reddened in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I promise not to do it again.”

When Prussia said nothing and did not turn to her, looking weary and frustrated, she tentatively reached out for him and enveloped him in a hug.

They remained in that position until Prussia blew out the candle and crawled into bed beside her.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The door opened slowly. There was a candle in Germany’s hand as she tiptoed in, and she moved to place it on the bedside.

“What did I say about making promises you don’t plan on keeping?”

Germany let out a shriek and jumped, but calmed once she moved the candle closer into the heart of the room and made out Prussia’s silhouette in the armchair. She gave him an uncertain smile having been caught red-handed. Prussia did not look angry or amused. His expression was calm. He could see she was disoriented. He beckoned her over and she obeyed wordlessly, looking appropriately admonished without his needing to say a word. Prussia took the candle from her hands and placed it on the table by his side.

“You’ve been hiding something from me.”

Germany looked alarmed, and quickly tried to stifle it under a neutral face, but she was not yet a practiced liar. She probably could never be.

“Don’t bother, you know I'll always _know_ ,” Prussia said as she began to stammer out some explanation. He leaned back lazily in his seat, elbow on the armrest, fist pressed against the side of his jaw. Germany looked utterly lost. Prussia sighed.

“All right. From what I can see, you’ve been feeling both guilty and afraid. This means you’ve been something you know to be bad, but you keep doing it anyway.” Prussia paused for dramatic emphasis. “You’ve been whacking off.”

Germany’s jaw dropped. The look on her face was priceless.

“That- That-”

“I’m right,” Prussia inspected his nails, “But that’s not all. You’ve been feeling jealous that I haven’t been paying you as much attention, which is why you’ve been setting me up for an epic case of blue balls. Congratulations, by the way. You actually succeeded. And that makes you feel especially guilty. Particularly because you’re not even sure why you’re jealous.”

He glanced at her. She looked crestfallen. 

Prussia smiled slowly and predatorily, twining his fingers together on his lap.

“I think this talk has been overdue.”

There was a flicker of fear in her eyes. “Wh-What talk?” She asked apprehensively.

“Womanhood. You’re at the cusp of it and your body and your feelings are changing. I don’t care _how_ you discovered masturbation, only that you came by it yourself and not with the aid of some outside party,” Prussia narrowed his eyes at her. She nodded solemnly, clutching her nightgown. He smiled again.

“In any case, you’ve discovered sex. And whether or not you’ve realised it, you’ve been taking out your frustrations on _me_. Little Germany, I do not take kindly to being blue balled. At all. Ever.”

Germany swallowed.

Gracefully, Prussia stood up and took her by the hand, leading her to the bed. She followed in a quiet sort of frightened confusion but obediently positioned herself against the headboard as he neatly arranged her. Her eyes widened when he parted her legs and she immediately grabbed his hands.

“I must protest,” she said in a rush, voice higher than usual. “I do not think this is appropriate—”

“ _My lord_?” Prussia purred. Germany froze. “Oh, you have been a _very_ bad girl.”

Her lower lip quivered as Prussia gently shook off her grip and placed both palms flat on her thighs. He bent her legs up and spread them, letting her nightgown pool along his wrist as they moved all the way to her pelvis. He slid his left hand onto her stomach, felt it tremble under his touch, and palmed his way up to her pert breasts. Her eyes hadn’t once left him. She probably didn’t realise how ragged her breathing had become. He flashed a grin at her and lowered his head.

Germany gasped as Prussia licked her clitoris, rubbing a nipple between his fingers simultaneously. He lapped at it with alternating pressure, his right hand pulling back the skin of her groin so he could tongue along the entire length of her vagina. He rubbed his tongue against the hole coaxingly, shallowly moving it in and out of the outer ring of muscle until he could taste the sharp saltiness of her wetness. He pulled back and met her eyes.

Germany was a wreck. Her eyes were glazed over and her cheeks were red, mouth parted as she panted heavily. Her hands were tight fists in the bed sheets. Prussia smirked at that. More than a passing resemblance there.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she said breathlessly.

“I don’t think you want it enough.” Prussia removed his hand from her groin.

“Please, don’t stop! I do want it, I really do.”

He gave her a considering look. “Why should I?”

“Because,” her voice hitched, “Because I like it. It makes me feel… hot and tingly and… I want you to.”

“Ah,” Prussia said, “It makes you feel good?”

Germany nodded, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown.

“How would you feel if I stopped right now?”

“Horrible,” she said miserably.

“And that, Little Germany, is what blue balls feels like,” Prussia lifted her face by the chin so she would look into his eyes, “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to continue?”

“ _Please_.”

“All right,” Prussia said. 

He pressed a peck to her forehead before pulled her nightgown off in one smooth motion. He eyed every detail of her naked body hungrily and she blushed bright red under his scrutiny but remained still, squirming slightly. Prussia kissed his way down her throat and collarbone onto a breast, cupping it in one hand so he could properly lavish it with attention. He licked circles around her areola, sucking and biting it alternatingly until the skin bloomed red and her breath hitched. His other hand trailed lower, thumb rubbing lazy circle into her clit. She struggled lightly, gripping his shoulders for some purchase as she gasped and shuddered, hips rolling along to the motion. Prussia had her nipple between his teeth as he peered up at Germany, his fingers slick, gliding up and down between her vagina and clit as his thumb continued to work her. He bit down a little harder.

“Prussia,” Germany said shakily, “My nipples are hurting.”

“Is it?” He asked serenely, giving it a lick. He covered it with his mouth and suckled gently, tonguing it nice and slow, kneading her breast with his hand as he continued to industriously rub her clit until she began to squirm. He pulled off properly. “Better now?”

She nodded, looking worn out. Prussia chuckled softly.

“You look like you’re done.”

Germany shook her head and hesitated. “I… I want you to do what you were doing before. With your mouth.”

“My mouth?” He asked with a smile, gliding down her body until he was inches away from her groin, “Right here?”

Germany bit her lip and nodded, eyes fluttering when Prussia spread her apart with his hands and gave one long, languid lick along the entire length of her pussy. Prussia kept to those motions, moving from vagina to clitoris and back again, curling his tongue around her clit and rubbing it before moving down again. Germany was… actually pretty quiet, which surprised Prussia, considering how much more vocal she had been asleep. Her eyes were fluttering but not completely shut, focusing keenly on Prussia as she bit down on a corner of her lower lip, the pitch of her laborious breathing rising in tandem with the frequency of his lapping. Prussia smirked briefly. Time to move in for the kill.

Germany’s eyes snapped open and she began to scrabble for his shoulders when Prussia pulled her skin back completely, covered her bared clit completely with his mouth, and _sucked_ with a vengeance.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, voice rising, “Oh my _god_.”

He pinned her hips down firmly, aware that she was starting to buck erratically. It wouldn’t take long at all now, and Prussia stopped sucking in favour of tonguing her clit thoroughly, moving along the sides and the bottom and pushing it in _just there_ until Germany let out a loud, broken moan, body convulsing to a slow tremble, and then she sagged against the pillows, catching her breath. Prussia sat upright, right hand on her thigh and rubbing gently.

Germany’s head lolled to the side as she caught Prussia’s eye.

“You didn’t do that… You didn’t push inside of me, like you had.”

“ _Into_ you?” Prussia eyeballed her incredulously. A small smile spread across his lips. He placed his middle finger in his mouth, coating it with saliva before he gently spread her again, tracing the opening of her vagina. “Here?”

“Yes.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think I will,” he said distractedly, focusing on how wet she actually was. “You’re not ready for that.”

“But I liked it when you did it.”

“Because I only did it a little. I’ll do it properly when you’re a little bigger.”

“All right,” Germany said, agreeable to anything now. She reached out for him. “What about you?”

“Oh, Germany,” Prussia said with a sly grin, intercepting her hand, “I don’t think you’re ready quite yet.”

“Can’t I do what you did?” She asked, pushing herself to sit. “With my mouth.”

Prussia licked his lips. Well then. “You don’t need to use your mouth.”

He let her undo his breeches, magnanimously kicking them off once she had jerked them down past his knees. She fumbled his coat open and sat on her haunches to let him pull off his small clothes. He leaned against one of the columns of the bed, sitting by the edge of the mattress. Germany blushed fully now that he was naked, but she ran her fingers along his erection, swirling her fingers in the pre-come that had smeared along the tip of his cock. Prussia inhaled sharply.

“Take it in your hands firmly, but not too tight,” he told her. “A little tighter.”

Germany obeyed. Her left hand hesitantly splayed on his chest, moving up and down along the line of muscle. Prussia looked at her, and grinned sensual and slow. She was bright red by that point.

“Move your grip up and down… catch some of that, yeah that’s right, make it nice and smooth…” Prussia licked his lips before he leaned forward and caught her in an open mouthed kiss. She moaned softly as he sucked on her tongue, still steadily stroking him. 

“Faster,” he grunted as he broke the kiss. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back. “Oh yeah, faster. Tighter. That’s right.” 

He was going to come very soon. He let out a hum of approval as he felt her kissing his throat and shoulder. Both her hands gripped him tight as it moved up and down.

Then there was a tongue on his cock. “Oh fuck,” Prussia panted, fingers in her hair, “Yeah, no teeth, keep doing that, _yes_ , shit, fuck. Keep moving your hands. Suck the head but… oh fuck. Oh _fuck_.”

It was a tease, quite frankly. She didn’t know enough what to do, but Prussia did love a good teasing and it felt _very good_.

“Germany,” Prussia moaned, “I cannot wait to fuck you.”

Not two minutes later, he came with a long, guttural groan. As he lay spent, Germany had pulled back in surprise, come in her mouth and on her face. She touched it with her fingers, unsure what to do.

“Spit it out,” he told her lazily, “And, for the record, if that white stuff gets inside you, you become pregnant.”

When Prussia was ready to move again, he arranged them in his bed, pressing her against his chest with the blankets haphazardly thrown on top of them. She was toying with his iron cross, nestled in his arms. He waited for another two minutes before he let out a long-suffering sigh.

“What is it?”

“You didn’t… Well, um, do that you said you wanted to.”

Prussia searched his blissed out brain for things he had said. All he remembered was a whole bunch of dirty talk. Germany must have noticed because he felt a huff of silent laughter against his skin.

“You said you wanted to fuck me.”

“Watch your mouth,” Prussia replied in amusement, “You’re not allowed talk dirty.”

He _felt_ the eye roll. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You’re surprisingly eager.”

“ _Prussia._ ”

He let out a long sigh before he rolled onto her and gave her a long kiss. When he pulled away, he lay down on his side and tucked his chin in the crook of her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“… Yes.”

“Well, it’s going to have to wait,” he said with a yawn, “Eye for an eye.”

“What? For how long?”

“I am a gentleman,” he sniffed, “So until your body is completely ready to have me fucking you nice and deep and slow until you’re hoarse from screaming my name. You, by the way, are banned from my room tomorrow onwards.”

“But—”

“Shut the fuck up and go the fuck to sleep. Teach you to blue ball me.”

To be completely fair, Prussia ate her out two days later against her wardrobe. After all, it would be remiss of him not to give her a talk about menstruation and ‘safe days’.

  
  


* * *

  
  


**BONUS:**

 

Germany fell back onto the bed, panting heavily as Prussia collapsed by her side.

"Okay," she said breathlessly, "That was not worth waiting 40 years."

"Excuse _you_ ," Prussia squawked, all traces of post-coital drowsiness instantly gone, "Are you _criticizing_ my technique?!"

Germany rolled onto her stomach, smiling faintly at him, "I expected a bit... more, let's put it that way. Though your restraint has been very impressive."

"Weimar Republic," Prussia growled, making her eyes widen in anticipation, "I am going to fuck you so hard, _Germania_ is going to feel it up his ass." 

He threw her down onto the mattress. Germany smiled.


End file.
